A song of Salt and Smoke
by StoryReigns96
Summary: Married at the Rock instead of the Capital, King Robert and Queen Cersei produce an heir as true a Baratheon as ever been born, this is the tale of how a crown prince of the Iron Throne shall be remembered for all time; and establish a dynasty to last a thousand years, he is Steffon Baratheon and his is the song of Salt and Smoke. A storm is raging and the Cold Winds Are Rising.


**A song of Salt and Smoke**

 **Married at the Rock instead of the Capital, King Robert and Queen Cersei produce an heir as true a Baratheon as ever been born, this is the tale of how a crown prince of the Iron Throne shall be remembered for all time; and establish a dynasty to last a thousand years, he is Steffon Baratheon and his is the song of Salt and Smoke. A storm is raging and the Cold Winds Are Rising.**

 **Warning** **:** This story is **M** rated for a reason, contains adult themes and coarse language. Seriously, don't read this, if you're squeamish and prone to prudishness.

 _Update!_ : This story is currently undergoing a complete rewrite, the new story will follow shortly. This is the first chapter of the old story. I'd personally wait a little longer, I used to be exposition heavy.

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 **Chapter 1** **–** **A Promised Prince**

 **Cersei Lannister** **–** **King's Landing**

A storm the likes of which hadn't been seen in decades had descended on the capital; the tides of the Blackwater were crashing against the city, bolts of lightning were illuminating the night sky as if the Smith himself was hammering his anvil, no one whether they be a peasant or a high lord was resting peacefully due to the heavy rain smashing down onto the roof tops, gangs of street children were huddling together to escape the freezing wind.

On the far side of the city, being battered by the storm, there laid the Red Keep, the seat of most powerful man in Westeros, he who sat upon the Iron Throne. In the centre of the castle, lies Maegor's Holdfast, where in the room of the queen, the new wife of King Robert Baratheon and the daughter of the Warden of the West, Lord Paramount of the Westerlands Tywin Lannister – Cersei Lannister was giving birth to the future king.

The young queen was not having a good night; she had just entered the city having come from her former home of Casterly Rock, where her wedding had taken place. At first she had been incredibly excited, she was to wed the king and become queen, albeit it was not Prince Rhaegar Targaryen whose father, the Mad King, had snubbed her father and married him to that Martell girl, however the prince kidnapped the Stark bitch, the realm went to war leaving Martell girl to have her head smashed against the floor and the prince's chest to be caved in by her husband. She had actually felt lucky then, she was going to marry the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms save perhaps her father then by extension become the most powerful woman in the realm, being queen had her been dream since she was a little girl.

When she had seen her intended ride through the gates of Casterly Rock – she had not been disappointed, he had been just as good looking as in the stories, tall, handsome, black bearded and from what she had heard; the strongest man in the kingdoms. He had worn his armour, steel plate with a golden surcoat adorned with a black stag, his helmet had a huge rack of antlers. He wore his amour very well; all in all he _looked_ very kingly. On the outside she had a pleased look on her face; however inside she was squealing in smug glee, she was finally going to fulfil her dream, and her betrothed, _the k_ _ing_ , was straight from a storybook, ladies swooned at the thought of him, and he would be hers.

At the time, the capital had been in tatters and half the houses owed no real loyalty to the crown, those that did had just been badly bloodied fighting loyalists either from their own lands or ones far away whose homes remained untouched, while her own house had sacked the capital, claimed the throne in the name of the king and taken the vast riches of the treasury, her father had accumulated during his reign as Hand. House Baratheon needed to cement their alliance with the Lannisters and what better way then a marriage, the stags got access to the greatest fortune in the land, held by an old noble house, while the lions guaranteed the swords of not only the Storm-lords, but their allies in the Riverlands, Vale and the North but the even greater prize of placing their own on the Iron Throne, her child would be as much of as a lion as he was stag, and if they were persuasive enough, even more _clever_ than _arrogant._ After seeing her betrothed, she had hoped he would be more stag in appearance, she would be greatly pleased if her sons were as strong and handsome, she would do her very best to pass on her wits, to make an heir that would surpass every other king before him. That thought had made her immensely happy; her son would be the King, she would finally achieve her dream and would spend the rest of her days ruling with her husband & raising her beautiful children. She had never been so satisfied with her life.

The wedding had been a spectacular event, people from all corners of the land had come to pay homage, there was; her betrothed, his brothers Stannis and Renly, Jon Arryn, Eddard Stark, their wives, Hoster Tully, all the lords of the Westerlands, high lords from all along the Kingsroad, her brother Jaime, that little monster, all her aunts, uncles and cousins, all had come to see the Royal wedding. The Warden of the East had wanted the wedding to take place in King's landing, at the Sept of Baelor, to help validate his claim on the Iron Throne; her father had wanted it to be held at the Rock, for one reason, and one reason alone, to have the King come to him for a bride. When it came to cases over who would get their way, it went in her father's favour, because again the reason was simple – he was paying for it.

They had married in the Sept of Lannisport; she had worn an exquisite dress of Lysene silk, scarlet red embroidered with golden lions. Robert was wearing his armour and a large black cloak with a gold stag, standing tall next to the High Septon who had come for the wedding with 'Ned' Stark and Jon Arryn and his brothers, even little Renly on his right, as groomsmen. Her bridesmaids were made up of the Tully girls, Stannis' wife Selyse Florent, gross women she was with her scrunched face, bearded lip and giant ears and her aunt Genna Frey, at the time she had pitied her aunt, her grandfather had married her to a Frey simply to appease Walder the Late, while her father had given her _the_ King.

Her father had just given her away when she stared into Robert's deep blue eyes and she inwardly squealed again, he was just so handsome, and hers, and so kingly and hers. He took the Lannister cloak off her, passed it to her father then removed the hefty cloth from his shoulders and placed it over hers, the Baratheon cloak was far heavier than her previous but it felt lighter than air being that it was the cloak the queen should wear. They had said their vows and she marvelled at his loud, authoritative voice, a king's voice, she had said hers happily, eager to be married, the Septon announced them as husband and wife then instructed him to kiss her, when he did she swooned; so full of power and "love". After the ceremony, Jon Arryn, the hand of the king approached her husband with a black pillow, a tiara lying on top – her crown, the king commanded her to kneel, she did so and then in his name he crowned her the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms... once again at that moment she had never felt happier.

Everyone left the Sept to attend the feast her father was holding in Casterly Rock, dinner had been a decent enough affair, she had been congratulated by all the high lords and ladies attending and gossiped with her good family, the Tully girls were nice but boring, as such she figured they would do well with their stoic husbands and live comfortably in Winterfell and the Eyrie, respectfully. Lady Selyse was even more annoying than she had anticipated, complaining about something or other to do with her own marital bed being cursed or what not. Her husband had been drinking heavily but she figured as he was such an impressive size it took more to sate his thirst and probably had long since developed a greater tolerance to wine over the years more so than herself who had only one glass to steady her nerves over the bedding, though careful not to drink too much lest she looked haggard. He was also laughing boisterously and touching the maids fondly but again she chalked it up to his friendly nature and not having the same sense of propriety being king and his parents having passed away at such an early age, that thought made her feel shame, of course he wouldn't know proper etiquette, his time at court had been in the Vale learning martial traits, not how to play a role he had never believed he would hold, so she resolved to help him, which pleased her as she already had a chance to aid her husband with his duties.

Eventually the bedding ceremony began, the hall was filled with leering men which unnerved her greatly though she would be damned if she showed it, however it didn't matter as her father rather disliked this part as the Mad King had taken too many liberties at her parents wedding, so when it came time to strip the couple, her brother Jaime was allowed to draw his sword at them to shield her from the men attempting to undress her, surprisingly the warden of the North who seemingly also was not fond of the tradition, the honourable Eddard Stark joined him but this left the little monster to remove her cloak and respectfully reduce her clothing to just her night gown. Across the hall, her husband was facing different treatment as women were lustfully tearing his robes off, however he was staring at her which made her blush, when all he was left wearing was a piece of cloth around his waist, he marched towards her and took her in his strong arms then left to their chambers.

She had never felt so safe or warm, when they got to the room he kicked the door in and placed her on the bed, went back to close and lock the door while the Kingsguard took up their posts so that no one would disturb them. Then he climbed back into bed and kissed her so harshly that it took her breath away, she had remained a maiden till now, while she had done other things with Jaime, she had saved herself for her wedding day as her mother had told her it was a precious gift not be given away carelessly, she even took extra care while riding on horseback to preserve it, nowadays it seemed noble girls didn't concern themselves as much as they should with protecting their virtue. When he entered her she felt the sharp pain and winced as tears came down her cheek, but Robert had kissed them away and waited until she nodded for him to continue, whimpers turned into moans and then into mewling as he continued, she was ecstatic it was far better than advertised and she thought Robert to be exceptionally sweet with her, other men would just worry about their own pleasure and finish quickly from what other ladies had told her, so again she felt lucky as the King was gentle with his Queen – she thought that he truly cared for her and love would quickly blossom between them.

As they were both about to finish and create their first child, she prayed and complete their first round of what she hoped would be followed many repeat performances. Robert leaned into her, spilt his seed into her and when he finished, he moved his head to hers and whispered into her ear "Lyanna"... and just like that, her heart broke. The Stark bitch, she was living girl and he preferred a corpse, one that had probably been taken by the last dragon dozens of time and he still fantasized about his dead, former betrothed. He grunted, rolled over to his side and began to snore loudly, she shifted her gown down, pulled the blankets close to her chest, tried to ignore the now disgusting feeling of his seed running down her leg and began to weep, praying she was not with that brute's child.

In the morning, he had woken up, she had not yet slept, he'd left to go hunting or mingle with his friends, leaving her pretending to be asleep, soon after her aunt Genna; who had taken up a part of the role as her mother ever since that little freak had taken hers from her, held her tightly as she sobbed into her shoulder and whispered to her that she would love her children & run an impressive household as the queen. The thought of bearing Robert's children however disgusted her, so much so she had to make sure she was not with child. This posed a difficult problem as this was Casterly Rock and her father certainly had made spies of all the apothecaries in Lannisport and would know if any ladies in waiting purchased moon tea, even if they did, the chance of smuggling it into the castle to give it to her under the watchful eye of Tywin Lannister was a dangerous task indeed, as well anybody who was less loyal to the king as to rid her of Robert's seed, belonged to her father first and would go to him about it, so she would have to wait until they left to King's landing.

Unfortunately for her this was not to be, as the hand of King was engaging her father in talks of returning the wealth of the Targaryens to the crown, not that the King cared, he was either out hunting in the Pendric hills or whoring in Lannisport, over the weeks he had been there she had learnt much about her husband; he was a drunkard and a whore-monger, had already fathered several bastards in several different kingdoms, though she and her father would make sure they would remain bastards and never have a chance to inherit anything, not that it would be a difficult task, it wasn't like the man gave a damn about his baseborn children. Eddard Stark had left with his wife shortly after the wedding, apparently from his dislike of her father, not that she cared what he thought as she now despised the Starks for bearing that wolf bitch.

After not having bled in months, the maester had came and confirmed she was indeed with child, she had cried for hours, only finding solace in her brother's arms. Her father had congratulated her on having an heir so quickly, which pleased her somewhat she supposed she did always want her father's approval, however he did seem the slightest bit sorrowful recognizing that besides for being king, Robert was no great catch, she only thought this due to the smallest downward curl of his lips making him look ever so slightly more solemn than usual. Her belly was growing by the day and still there was no opportunity to lose the child, despite her best efforts. As time went on she realized that it would reflect badly on her if she had a miscarriage, maybe even lead to an annulment in the worst case. She could only hope that the child was Jaime's, if Robert had managed to make it to her bed she finished him off in other ways, that she learned from gossiping maids that the king had fucked outside their marital bed.

Once again her father congratulated her; the early pregnancy gave him an excuse to prolong negotiations while it gave Lord Arryn a sense of urgency to settle in order to make it back to the capital in time so that they babe would be born in King's landing, not on the Gold Road where it could be dangerous and certainly not Casterly Rock like her father wanted but he preferred to use it as a bargaining chip to hang over the warden of the East's head, as to spend the Mad King's coin that her father had earned for him. Eventually an agreement was met, not before her father had made himself the source of loans for the Crown, though talks had taken longer than anyone but her and her father had expected so it was now a race, as to whether her child would be born on the Gold Road, or in the capital, she however was more worried if she could get rid of the child in time, as killing an infant in its crib made for much higher chances of her head ending up on a pike.

So she bid farewell to her father, who instructed her to make sure her child was raised a lion, of that she had little doubt, and to have many children as possible, perhaps one that would inherit the Rock if Jaime was never going to forsake the white cloak. Then began the months long journey to the capital, the ride to King's landing though never a quick trip, was made longer still with the sheer number of people, the inclusion of women & children and most importantly her child's safety, which was annoying to her as she wanted to reach the city as soon as possible so she could get rid of it.

However, a day before they were expected to reach the city, her water broke and the king had sent her forward as he went to go hunting for a skin to present to her after the child was born, stupid man. When they were in sight of the Lion Gate, a storm had begun to shake the city, a part of her started hoping that Robert would die, she would bear Jaime's child and he would inherit the throne making her the Queen Regent. They barely made it to the Red Keep when the storm unleashed its full brunt, when she made it to her room she was immediately placed on the bed and the midwives descended upon her, Jaime was there when they told him to leave the room he responded by asking how they intended to stop him. She lid down on her bed and grabbed her brother's hand, the shutters on the windows were making such a racket from the wind in conjunction with the rain blasting the tower.

Sometime during the storm, inside Alchemist's guild, a young apprentice had left a window open and ran for shelter, however the winds had knocked over one jar of a strange green liquid – one jar was all it took within an hour, regardless of the downpour raining upon the city, half of Flea Bottom was ablaze with sickening wild fire.

As smoke was entering the Queen's chamber, her child was already crowning, though it was very painful and she was yelling loudly it wasn't as bad as she been told it would be and apparently it was going rather quickly.

"That's it my queen, keep pushing, you're almost there." one of the midwives exclaimed.

"What's your name?" she asked between breaths.

"Talia, Your Grace." the maid answered.

"Be quiet Talia." the queen commanded, receiving a quick nod as a reply, after a couple of minutes smelling smoke she gave one last push and they told her she was finished.

But, she did not hear a baby crying, cooing or otherwise, nothing but silence. "Well, is it a boy or a girl?" she asked tiredly but scared, hoping this wasn't as abnormal as she thought. However no one answered, and fear seized her heart, how could her baby not be crying with all this noise from the storm? Birth was enough of an event as it was, not even counting the smoke or rain entering the room. Gods don't let her child be a monster like Tyrion, and please don't be stillborn. She sat up, ignoring the pain in her loins, all in all the birth had been much easier and shorter than advertised, hopefully that wasn't a bad thing, she looked at the midwife holding the swaddled bundle, again her heart sank at the worried, depressing face the woman wore.

"Give them to me." she ordered, careful not to say it, yet still not knowing if it was a prince or princess, or Gods forbid, a monster.

"Your Grace…" the woman she now remembered again whose name was Talia started, but she would not have that, if the child was stillborn or born a monster she would deal with it, but she still needed to know.

"Give them to me." she repeated and stretched her arms out to receive the swaddled baby.

"Of course, Your Grace." An older midwife came and took the bundle from that stupid girl and passed it to her.

"He was a boy, Your Grace." and with that a dozen thoughts cross her mind, firstly, 'A boy, father will be pleased, an heir and crown prince on her first try, I should expect another congratulations soon' then paused "was" did that mean he is dead. She brought the bundle close to her chest and moved the cloth away from his face, she gasps at the sight, hair as black as night, a Baratheon chin, her cheekbones, arms the right size, legs the right length, right amount of fingers and toes, checking just to see if the girl was correct, she confirms he is indeed a boy. She can't decide if he is the most beautiful thing she's ever seen or the most hideous looking that much like Robert. Her musing is cut short when she notices he is not moving, not making a sound and his eyes are closed shut. Despite confirming this was in fact Robert's child, she did not want to see this babe dead, she slowly shakes the bundle, nothing, again she tries harder, nothing, once more, much harder so that the midwives shout out and her brother places his hand on her shoulder, but still, nothing.

"Please…" she begs, "Please…little cub, open your eyes for your mother." She pleas of the little angel in arms, even if he is Robert's, he is also hers, and already she loved him more than anything, she didn't know what she would do if he didn't listen to her request, her marriage already was hell for her, if she lost her baby the one chance at love she had would be gone, even if she had lost the baby before his birth, she might have been able to move on and have Jaime's children, but now holding him in arms, the little fragile, handsome babe had stolen her heart. If he lived, he would be her cub, and like any lioness she would love him fiercely and would watch him grow into a mighty lion and Cersei Lannister was certainly a lioness and the babe in her arms was her cub. So she tried again "Please, little cub, won't you open your eyes for your mama."

Then her pleas were answered, her little cub, opened his eyes and her heart seized as she gazed into two perfect eyes, two sapphires as deep as the ocean blue and once again she didn't know whether to thank the gods or curse them for giving him Baratheon blues, she quickly decided to thank them as they showed her baby was alive, the stare he gave her reminded her of fathers scrutinizing blank glare and she marvelled at how easily it unnerved her, but as quickly it came he closed his eyes and let out a big yawn, opened and closed his mouth a couple of times then looked back at her again with that questioning look as if wondering if she was his mother, she chuckled "So little cub, were you just to tired to care that you scared your mother half to death with your sleeping?" she asked in a false reprimanding tone, in reply he cooed a noise that had quickly become her favourite sound.

Around her, Jaime took his hand from her and let out a breath in relief, the midwives all crowded her and showered them with congratulations and speculated as to why he wasn't crying, which she herself was wondering why on this night of all nights, with a storm and wildfire raging through the streets would he choose not to cry. She reached her hand and touched his little nose which was again like his fathers, "Such a brave little cub huh, your not scared of the big bad storm are you?" she cooed, her son followed finger going cross eyed which made her smile then he looked back at her with a big doe eyed expression, giggled and grabbed her finger with his little hands – she swooned. 'Is _this what is was like for you with us, mother?_ '

"I'll take my leave of you, sister. Take care of my nephew." Jaime kissed her cheek and left the room, she still wished she had bore his son and not that oaf's, but still her cub was adorable.

One of the midwives, the oldest one, bordering on hag in appearance approached her, "Your Grace, when a child born to royalty on a night such as this, their styled as 'Stormborn'" the hag informed her, 'Yes, that's what the Targaryens used to say' the thought made her frown, 'she wanted a lion not a stag, he was her cub after all, and lions were from the Westerlands not the Stormlands, then again, it's not like Robert would call him that, he hated all things having to do with Targaryens, even if the dragons rose from the dead he would kill them all, all over again. On the other hand, it did mean that the child would go on to do great things and that is definitely what she wanted for her cub, not Robert the second, or Aerys the third, but a king to surpass all the others, her little lion king.

Speaking of the Stranger, the doors of the burst, and once again her hopes are dashed, there stood Robert, soaked to the core but still breathing, with Jon Arryn he walked towards her and her cub, he placed a stag pelt on the foot of her bed somehow dry, held out his arms "Can I see him?" he asked in a whisper, though she was hesitant to give her child to him, she realized she had to and it wasn't like he would hurt her cub, so she gently placed him in her husband's arms.

Robert lifted him and looked him in the eyes, inspecting him, the child looked back at him with the same curious gaze making the man laugh loudly which caused the baby to giggle "Gods" he exclaimed "What a Baratheon, he reminds of Renly when he was a babe." that made her cringe, she hated Robert, wanted nothing to do with him, most definitely did not want her son to look like him, as everyone said his younger brother Renly looked practically identical to him, without a beard or the muscle he'd gained from warring.

Grand Maester Pycelle, then limps toward the King, "A peculiar child, Your Grace, he did not make so much as a peep and even if the birth was not reason enough, one would think the lightning would rouse-" just as said that the room is lit up and the sound of thunder rumbles, looking toward her cub she readies to soothe him from the loud noise, however he doesn't cry or whimper instead he breaks into a fit of giggles amused by the Smith's work, and her heart wells with pride, her brave little lion. The Maester continues "As you see, your grace, the child seems to be no ordinary babe, but... 'Stormborn'" the old man whispered tepidly, half expecting to be rebuked by the King for mentioning a Targaryen concept, he was surprised when Robert laughed "My father died in a storm and my son born in one, stag through and through you'll be son, we'll make a Storm-lord of you yet." 'Of course' she thought bitterly 'I shouldn't have expected him to know what that means, but by the time _I'm_ done with him Robert, all he'll have of you is your looks.'

Her cub, reached out and pulled on his beard, making the king and queen laugh for different reasons, her husband turns to face her "Have you thought of a name yet?"

Shaking her head no, she adopted a thinking look. What to name her little cub, she hadn't really paid much to mind to that thought before now, if he was Jaime's she had thought of Lannister names, like Tybolt, Loreon or Joffrey, but he was unmistakably Robert's and she doubted he would allow her to name him a Lannister, so a Baratheon name it was.

Lyonel, like the laughing storm, no that was too ironic and she didn't want more storm than was already there, also he was already the crown prince, he didn't need any more comparisons, he was already going to surpass the last three kings anyway, he needn't be forced to be a great warrior, he'd train with swords of course, but there was enough pressure.

Raymond maybe... no.

Gowen, definitely not, would remind people of the last Baratheon to marry a Lannister.

Durran like the Storm-Kings of old, no again, it was too stag like, last thing she needed was for him to think he needed to defy the gods to surpass his namesake.

Orys, no, that was far too Targaryen for Robert and her father would probably dislike him because his name sounded like Aerys.

Baldric like Baldric the Cunning, no it didn't really roll of the tongue; people wouldn't drink to the Crown-Prince Baldric in halls across the land.

Her mind wandered to what Robert said before, and it sparked an idea, it was a way for Robert to at least give him half a damn, not that she wanted her cub spending with him, but she would teach her son that what Robert did was not what a true king would do, also it was not either too easy or difficult to surpass, he had died relatively young in a tragic accident, however he had sired three strong sons and ruled over the Stormlands for decades, ruled justly and absolutely, commanded the loyalty of his banner men, was loved throughout the realm but would not be constantly compared to her son. Also, from what she had heard, the Baratheon brothers all looked like their father and all respected him, if not loved if only for his dying in their youth. She looked up at Robert and nodded.

He passed her cub back to her and she held him tightly against her bosom, "So, do you have one, woman?" he asked impatiently, himself probably having no idea what to name him.

She fixed his swaddling and looked at his face and smiled when he giggled when another bolt of lightning shown in the sky. "Yes, I do." She proclaimed to her husband.

"So, out with it woman, what shall we call him?" the King bellowed.

She looked up at him and smiled, a too sweet a smile "Steffon."

The King's breath hitched, "Yes, 'Steffon' like my father, a good name, strong name" she agreed obviously, a family name, easy to pronounce, hard to ridicule, not too long, not too short, neither overused or strange and her father would be pleased, the late Lord Steffon had been a very good friend of her fathers, having fought in the war of the Ninepenny Kings together, he had even grieved when he passed, her father of course would compare her son to his friend, but she would raise him so that he would far more clever and patient than any Baratheon, so she hoped her son would make a good impression. The king continued, moving towards them to give her son, Steffon his finger to grab on to "Steffon 'Stormborn' Baratheon, second of his name, son of Robert, heir to the Seven Kingdoms" her son giggled at the proclamation

"What other names will you have I wonder?" he asked.

She thought about that, what would he be called, several names and titles came to mind, but it would all depend on her cub, Steffon. The one thing she was sure of was that he would accomplish great things, good or bad, he would certainly be remembered throughout history, generations from now, her descendants, maybe in this very room would be naming their children and they will call them Steffon in hopes that his greatness would rub off on their own spawn.

Once again she looks at her cub thensmiles 'her brave little lion' might not be what is shouted in taverns and inns around Westeros, but it would still be what she thought of her child, not the least bit bemused by the storm or smoke. Jon Arryn had taken his leave to deal with the fire. Robert continues to examine the child "He does look a lot like one of my bastards though, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart." he says innocently enough wondering if he should spend more time with them, as he can't tell a difference, shrugging his shoulders, gives the babe another wiggle of his finger then takes his leave to inspect the spoils of his latest hunt.

She growled 'How dare he compare, his bastard children to Steffon, he was a trueborn lord, the crown prince, all the men in the kingdoms would obey him, every high born lord would try to get his daughter married to him, every girl behind the Wall would see him in their dreams, every child would grow up hearing stories about him and his deeds. How dare that boar, compare him to his baseborn cretins born of lust and drink. He was a prince, her prince, a golden lion, he wasn't some whore's son born in a brothel.' she looked at Steffon to confirm what she already knew, but all she could see was his raven hair, his blue eyes, stout nose and iron chin and she cringed, all she could see was Robert, that pig, ignoring her cheekbones and ears he seemed to be born with, all she could see was one of Robert's bastards, the result of him spilling in seed in any loose women willing to spread her legs.

Getting up, she passes _it_ to the midwife, "Go fetch the wet nurse, I am going to adjourn to my quarters." she makes to leave the room when the midwife asks if she was sure, "Yes, I am." she tells herself more than the girl, leaving the room she hears her baby, her Steffon cry out to her as he stretches his arms to reach for the door. In a small voice she whispers to herself as she walks down the hall "I shouldn't coddle him… he is to be king one day… he'll need a firm hand if he is to grow into a man… lots of ladies use wet nurses… he is far too young to care… he isn't afraid of the thunder, he won't be afraid of the nurse… my brave little lion will be fine…" she continues to mutter until she joins her brother and had him rap his arms around her then drifts off to sleep.

 **Elyse Estermont née** **Mertyns**

Elyse had never been particularly special neither overly beautiful or intelligent, neither ugly or dim witted, she did consider herself lucky though, she had been born in the Stormlands, more specifically Mistwood in the Rainwood, on Cape Wrath as the daughter of the lady of Mistwood, Mary Mertyns, not long after her brother, she had grown up a noble lady in court. Once she was old enough her mother had her betrothed to the heir of house Estermont, Aemon, at first it was just a political marriage, she had been pleased that he was handsome and kind. Not long after her wedding however, the realm went to war, her husband a loyal son of his father joined him in siding with his cousin Robert Baratheon, the liege lord of the Stormlands, just as her mother had, so she had waited in Greenstone waiting and praying for her husband to return home safely.

Eventually the rebels won, and Aemon returned home. She hadn't really know what to think of the marriage of their new king to Cersei Lannister, she had heard she was a great beauty, clever and nice enough, so it couldn't be too bad, though she wasn't really concerned as it had little to do with her. That was until Jon Arryn wanted one of the ladies in waiting to be from the Stormlands and she supposed she was the best candidate, the daughter of Lady of the Mist as well as the wife to the heir of Greenstone, so along with her husband they were to be among the small host of Storm-lords living as guests in the Red Keep at least until her good father passed away and they were called back to take over in his place.

So they had arrived at King's landing, while the court had been mostly away at Casterly Rock, in the Westerlands for the royal wedding. She had hoped to have been there, it was supposed to be quite the affair but by the time it would take to get there it would have been over and they were not important enough to delay the ceremony. The capital was in a state of disrepair after the sacking and smelled badly though again, she would be spending basically all her time in the Red Keep anyway. Over the course of time spent there she had grown to love Aemon, to the point she couldn't imagine life without him and soon discovered that she herself was with child, she had received ravens from both sides of her family congratulating her for readying to produce an heir, this was shortly followed by the news that the new queen was also carrying a child, as she was already one of queens intended ladies-in-waiting, she had been given the role of wet nurse for the little royal. That was certainly a great honour, being trusted enough by the Lord Hand to be responsible for the potential heir to Seven Kingdoms, she wondered if she had a son and the queen bore a prince if they would be good friends, which was rather likely as they'd be milk brothers or if she had a daughter would the crown prince fall in love with the girl he had shared a breast with.

She knew it was too much to even dream about such things, but it didn't hurt anybody.

After months of waiting, the royal procession had finally arrived; she hadn't even had time to meet the king or the queen as she was already going into labour. To top it off, the worst storm she had ever seen appeared out of nowhere and started bombarding the city. They had rushed to the queen's quarters to birth the child, she had not yet had hers yet but it was expected soon.

The actual birth went very quickly, she had only been to two births but both were hours long and she had heard of them lasting whole days, the prince's only lasted mere minutes. Despite how short it was, it was still a troublesome affair, the rain and smoke coming through the windows had annoyed everyone and when the baby finally came they were all terribly afraid, he had not made a single sound or movement, didn't even open his eyes, they had thought he was stillborn and hadn't survived due to the rush of beating the storm to the keep, however his mother begged him to open his eyes and like he actually understood her, obeyed, and even started cooing & giggling, she was relieved the young prince was okay and marvelled at the silent babe, who seemed to find the roaring thunder funny. The King followed by his entourage had entered the room, he presented the queen with a pelt, she watched as he compared the babe to his family, she was pleased he would look the part of a proper Storm-lord like he had been born to be. She hadn't really paid heed to the Maester when he spoke of the prince being 'Stormborn' he was already the heir to throne, how special could he be. She listened to the queen decide to name the prince after his late grandfather 'Steffon', she smiled, Lord Steffon had been married to Cassana Estermont, her husband's aunt though she doubted anyone besides her would see the connection.

She had watched dismayed when the king mentioned to the queen the resemblance between Prince Steffon and his bastards, while it was a well known fact that he had fathered several, she did not see the need to remind the queen of this fact he had or that continued to lay with other women. She was slightly perturbed when he left again so quickly after arriving, though it wasn't that unusual as fathers rarely took an interest in their children before they could speak or walk. What had truly irked her was when the queen passed her baby off to her just after, she had asked if she was certain, apparently she was as she continued to leave down the hall even when Prince Steffon started to scream out in her arms for his mother, she tried to soothe him to no avail and boy did the little prince have a set of lungs.

She had to breastfeed him in order to stop bawling, even then she needed to let him have a view of the door and he would still whimper occasionally. She felt for baby, it was hard enough he would grow up with everyone expecting so much of him, to do so without his parents would truly be a fate she wouldn't wish on anyone, she figured that King Robert just wasn't the type to be good with children but as king needed to produce heirs, as for the she guessed that the blonde didn't like his grace so much, and with the resemblance being clear as day... If she hated her husband, she probably wouldn't want to be reminded of him constantly and it was a trying day for her but she did however, even if the queen did not, notice that the new mother had not told her baby she loved him.

* * *

Days turned to weeks which gave way to months with things remaining strange for the prince, his father continued to ignore him and his mother would stare at him with the oddest expression of longing, guilt, disgust and pride all rolled into one which was unsettling to observe.

She herself had her child whom she named Alyn, she had been careful not to take the role of mother figure from the queen even if the prince needed one, she was glad he hadn't called her mama or anything as that would be disastrous to her health as well as Alyn's if the queen thought she was influencing her child. Prince Steffon and Alyn seemed to get along well enough but they were only babies though, so it was too early to tell.

She had heard through the grapevine that Lord Stark had sired a bastard during the war, that had fuelled a lot of gossip at court, when the king heard he broke into an uproar laughing at "honourable Ned", also Lord Arryn had had a stillborn but his wife was pregnant again but this time they were returning to the Vale for the child to be born in The Eyrie and settle things from the war. Word had also reached court, that Lord Paramount Mace Tyrell had a new daughter by the name of Margaery, after some thought on her part that seemed to be the likely wife of the prince in her arms, unless Jon Arryn or Eddard Stark had a daughter soon, half the country would be trying to push their daughters on him and the only reason half wouldn't is because they know they don't have a chance.

She had also caught Ser Barristan looking at the child often as if wondering if he would become a worthy king or perhaps, when he would be allowed to train the prince, to become his mentor like his hero and King Aegon V, since the arrival of the young prince, the Lord Commander had made of point of keeping him safe, having either himself, Ser Wlyde or Ser Moore protecting him at all times, curiously never his uncle or Ser Trant.

Later that night after putting the little prince who was cooing as usual but had not giggled since his name day save for a thunderstorm to bed, she heard footsteps and the only person who would come at this time was the queen, having been late to put the prince to bed she hid behind a divider and watched as the queen entered the room from a mirror placed to see outside the cubby she found herself in. The queen sauntered up to Steffon's crib and looked down at him.

"Hello little cub…" the queen spoke softly to her child "How was your day, my prince?" she asked Steffon taking the babe into her arms and gave him her finger to play with, he grabbed it quickly and began giggling which pleased Elyse greatly now thinking her grace simply didn't believe in public affection or the like, and was content to hear Prince Steffon happy.

"So strong so soon, you're just like father already." the queen growled and she became nervous, and then took notice of the bruise now adorning the queen's face, she was now stricken by fear, she couldn't be caught eavesdropping on royalty nor could she allow Cersei to take out his frustrations on Steffon.

"I bet you'll be just like that boar, drinking your weight in wine, fucking everything that walks upright, hunting every chance you get and you'll beat your wife as if she was some tavern wench just because she isn't some dead wolf bitch." the queen ranted – it was starting to terrify her. "It would be a mercy…" the queen whispered and Elyse froze "You wouldn't grow into a disgusting stag; you'd always be my little cub." Steffon giggled as he started gnawing on his mother's finger, "Look at you, just like him, not a care in the world, not concerned with who you hurt." the boy's wet nurse was panicking now; she needed to figure out what she would do.

Queen Cersei took one of the pillows from the prince's crib, and pushed it firmly against Steffon's face making him cry out as he started to flail his tiny arms.

"Shh…shhh… Goodnight, my little cub." the queen whispered.

Elyse stood up and made to turn the bend around the divider, as much as she wanted to spare herself the queen's wrath, she'd be damned if she let Steffon be suffocated by his mother, just as she was about to face the queen – the door opened and she hid again.

In the doorway, stood the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy. A look of absolute shock and fear fell on the queen's face, "Oh… Ser Barristan… I was just… Steffon has begun teething and I was giving him something to bite down on, to keep from hurting himself crying…" the queen stuttered out now unconvincingly, while wearing an indignant and guilt-ridden visage, throwing the pillow back into the cradle.

"Of course, Your Grace" Ser Barristan said in an even tone devoid of any emotion but Elyse would bet anything he was enraged from the look of fire in his eyes.

"I just stopped in to escort you to your quarters, now that it is late, and make sure the young prince had been seen to." as he entered, held out his hands for the crying babe, Cersei looked reluctant but nodded and handed him to the knight. Selmy set him down gently in his crib, smiled comically wide making Steffon laugh and rustle against his sheets. "If you'd wait outside the door, Your Grace, I'll be along momentarily." he commanded.

"Alright, Ser Barristan." the queen conceded and left the room, the white cloaked man closed the door behind her.

"If you would Lady Estermont."

She jumped and left the safety of the divider, facing the Kingsguard she gazed at her feet "Ser Barristan" she greeted lamely.

"If you would, my lady, would you see to it that the prince is tended to?" the storied knight asks of her, she nods meekly and he bids goodbye to herself and the prince and then leaves to escort the queen.

She takes Prince Steffon in his arms who has begun to cry again, and rocks him back and forth when the window blows open and a freezing chill hits her body and she shivers but Steffon stops crying and starts laughing hysterically, she moves to place him back in his bed, and she coos "Come young prince, lets get you to bed, _the cold winds are rising_."


End file.
